


Heir to the Empire

by DarthImperius



Series: DarthImperius's Plot Bunny stories [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Goblet of Fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-03-28 18:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13909956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthImperius/pseuds/DarthImperius
Summary: Akatosh said to Alessia that as long as the dragonfires burn, the glory of the Empire would be extended in unbroken years. But the blood of Alessia has been long dormant, and the Covenant between gods and men has fallen into oblivion. Yet can a single drop reignite the fires which once burned with the glory of the Empire?





	1. The Agent

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and The Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda/Zenimax.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

_**Warning**_ : This is a plot-bunny story.

* * *

**_ Chapter 1 - The Agent _ **

**Little Hangleton, England (U.K.)**

What little sunlight remained in the horizon of Little Hangleton was enough to provide light for a young Harry Potter to observe the events that occurred before him. Movement was impossible for him, being tied to a gravestone, not to mention it would attract the attention of those before him. Alas, Lord Voldemort had been resurrected, and his Death Eaters had now flocked to their old master.

Yet the man seemed to be ignoring him for now, preferring to torment those who were supposed to be loyal to him. He could nothing but stare at the scene, watching as the Death Eaters observed their master with fear and reverence… except for one. One of the Death Eaters was doing the exact opposite, and instead was staring at him. His face behind the mask, Harry could not see who the man was.

"My Lord, we desire to know… we beg you to reveal to us how… how this miracle was possible," said the unmistakable voice of Lucius Malfoy. "How have you returned to us?"

And Voldemort had been too eager to tell the tale. The man spoke of how he had "lived" as a disembodied spirit, possessing animals until the arrival of Quirrell in Albania, leading to the event of four years ago. He also spoke of how Peter Pettigrew had found him, and how he and another Death Eater had helped Voldemort to orchestrate the plan that led to the presence of all of them in the graveyard.

And finally, after the long speech. A small chance of escape presented itself to Harry.

"Untie him Wormtail. And give him back his wand."

A very small chance.

His wounded leg and the wall of Death Eaters made escape impossible, and the fact that Voldemort wanted for them to "duel". Things were not looking up for him. One thing was certain, for Voldemort certainly enjoyed his own monologues.

"Bow to death, Harry."

He refused, and in return, it was as if his own spine had decided to bend on its own accord, a strong pressure forcing him to do so.

"Very well," spoke Voldemort." And now, you shall face me as a man… in the same way that your father died."

Voldemort raised his wand, the spell already on his mouth.

"Cruc-"

Yet it never came. A bright flash of light was all that Harry saw, not coming from Voldemort or his wand, but from one of the Death Eaters. It was as if time had stopped, Voldemort was frozen in place, his Death Eaters and snake just as well. And then, another flash, and all fell on the ground.

All but one.

Harry instantly turned towards the unaffected Death Eater, who stepped forward.

"Forgive me for the abruptness of my actions, Harry Potter," said the man. "But you'll find them to work in your favour."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his hand fixed on the robed figure.

"I assure you, I have no intention to harm you," claimed the man. "But for the safety of us both…"

The Death Eater raised his hand, and upon doing so, Harry felt his wand being snatched from his fingers, the man in front of him having somehow summoned it.

"Who are you?" demanded the young wizard.

Still holding his wand, the Death Eater removed his mask and hood, revealing the face of old man, seemingly in his sixties.

"I am Aetius Nott. A pleasure," he said, giving a small bow.

Nott… if he was not mistaken, of his fellow Fourth Years was a Nott. What was his name… Thaddeus? Theodore? Yes, that must be it.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because it is my sworn role, Harry Potter. As was that of my father, and as shall be that of my son."

This was getting even more confusing.

"Role?"

"Had your father survived, you would already be informed of your family's… situation. Unfortunately for both of us, he is dead. And as the gods have seen it fit, this has presented itself as the best opportunity to approach you," said Aetius. "The role I spoke before… I am one of an ancient order called the Dragonguard, sworn protectors of the Reman bloodline."

None of this made sense. "What?"

"Your family, the Potters, are the only legitimate descendants of an ancient bloodline known as the Cyrodiils. We, the Dragonguard, have been for centuries not only their protectors, but also their eyes and ears everywhere."

"But… you're a Death Eater."

Aetius shook his head. "Any allegiance I hold to that sorry excuse for a human being is merely nominal. As I said, the Dragonguard has eyes and ears everywhere. And I am one of those who were assigned the task of infiltrating the Death Eaters."

"Then why did this all happen?" demanded Harry. "If you say your… Dragonguard was supposed to protect my family, then why are they all dead but me?"

"Your father managed to keep us oblivious to the true Secret Keeper. By the time our agents discovered it, it was too late. Voldemort keeps many secrets even from his closest followers, and he acted immediately as soon as the secret had been revealed to him," lamented Nott. "To our luck, you survived. And with you, the blood of the dragon."

So his father and ancestors were involved with some weird group who were supposed to watch over them. All of this was too… strange. Too… sudden. And yet he was accepting everything that was said to him. Perhaps he was numb from the shock of Cedric's death and Voldemort's return. Yes, that had to be it…

"You keep… you keep saying 'dragon'. What with that?" asked Harry.

Nott smiled. "I'm afraid that's something I'm not allowed to explain. Our Grandmaster's orders."

The word "Grandmaster" was said with a heavy hint of amusement.

Harry looked at the ground, glancing for a moment at the corpse of Cedric and the unconscious form of Voldemort. "What now?"

"Now… you return to Hogwarts. Tell them that the Dark Lord returned, and that you managed to escape him and his followers," said Nott. "I would suggest using the Cup. It may bring you back to the Tournament. Also, take Diggory's body with you."

"What about you?"

"I'll remain here. Have to alter a few memories, to make sure no one remembers where those spells came from..."

Harry looked at Voldemort. "Why don't you kill him?"

"Because he has the means to survive beyond physical death. And trust me Harry Potter, he is far more dangerous to us without a body, than with one."

Aetius approached Harry, handing him back his wand.

"I'll be in contact with you very soon. Now go."

* * *

**_ Author's Note: _ **

This was an idea that came to me when writing "Rise of Cyrodiil". Taking many aspects of that story, such as the background of Harry's bloodline, altering it a bit, as well as many other things. Of course, if this story does become a full one, it will follow my general head-canon (muh C0DA).

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	2. The Grandmaster

* * *

"Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

_**Chapter 2 - The Grandmaster** _

**Hogwarts School, Scotland (U.K.)**

The outcome of his arrival had not been as Harry had expected. Chaos had ensured as people realized that Cedric Diggory was dead, together with his claims regarding the return of Voldemort. Not to mention Alastor Moody was not Alastor Moody, but the Death Eater Voldemort had mentioned before. The real Moody had been locked inside an enchanted chest, kept alive as a source of hair for Polyjuice Potion.

Barty Crouch Junior had been the Death Eater, and that was a surprise for everyone, as the man was supposed to be dead. He had been the only reliable source to confirm Voldemort's return, and then he was kissed by a dementor. Not only that but Fudge himself was refusing to believe that Voldemort had returned. If the Minister for Magic himself was against them, then things were not looking well for the future of the Wizarding World.

He still had to hear from Nott, and the silence was unnerving him. Yet… he was certain that certain students were looking at him differently. Perhaps it was because of the whole tournament and the claims of Voldemort's return… but the fact that Theodore Nott was amongst them did nothing but increase his suspicions that it was Dragonguard related. The man did say they had eyes and ears everywhere.

"You're alright mate?" asked Ron. "You seem… paranoid."

"Is it about You-Know-Who?" said Hermione.

"I'm not paranoid!" he protested. "And no, it's not about _him_."

Harry looked up as the owls entered the Great Hall, the last day they would do so this school year. None came his way, and most of them were carrying copies of the Daily Prophet. Apparently, most families found it to be a waste of time to write to the students the day before they returned home.

He quickly finished his breakfast, leaving the Great Hall to return to the common room, knowing that Ron and Hermione would join him there. They all had to pack up things, and meticulously making sure nothing remained behind was crucial.

There were very few students outside the Great Hall, and as he climbed the Entrance Hall's stairs, he heard someone calling him.

"Potter!"

Turning around, he saw that it had been Theodore Nott, who had also left the Great Hall, apparently in his pursuit. He felt his heartbeat become faster, nervousness taking hold of him. The uncertainty of what was to come was unnerving.

"I need to speak with you," said Nott.

"Is this about... that thing with your father?"

"Subtle, Potter. And yes, it's about that. Follow me," commanded Theodore.

Harry reluctantly followed Theodore into a corridor near the stairs, one rather familiar to Harry, for it lead to the kitchens. Walking past a lone student, the two turned around a corner, finding a spot empty of portraits.

"Father sent me a message. Tomorrow, an agent of the order shall escort you from London to the headquarters."

"Tomorrow? I don't think…"

But Theodore stopped him. "I would not worry about needing to go to your muggle family. Everything's been taken care of."

"And Dumbledore?"

Nott's expression changed. "That's… a whole other situation. But father says that the Grandmaster has everything solved."

Despite all this, Harry was rather interested in meeting this Grandmaster. For someone to outmanoeuvre Dumbledore in such a way… it certainly was not a common individual.

"Ok… I suppose. By the way Nott, how many of you are there at Hogwarts?"

The smirk in Theodore's face was enough to tell Harry that he was not the only one.

"Did you see the other students in the Entrance Hall?"

Harry nodded.

"Each one is a junior agent of the Dragonguard, positioned at every exit of the Entrance Hall so that depending on which way you went, they would approach you," revealed Theodore. "I got to you first."

"Full members?" he asked alarmed.

"Erm… not exactly. Apprentices, to be exact, like me," said Nott. "Some are Hogwarts recruits, others have family connections to the order."

"How many members does your order have?"

"Don't know. They're all over the world. Wizards, muggles, squibs… Too many to count," the Slytherin replied. "Don't give me that look Potter. The Dragonguard has existed for over a thousand years. It would not keep itself to just a few dozen members."

"I suppose not…" he mumbled. "So... Who's the agent?"

Nott shrugged. "Don't know. The letter didn't say."

So he had to wait until tomorrow to learn not only the identity of the Grandmaster of the Dragonguard, but also that of this mysterious agent which would escort him.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

**London, England (U.K.)**

The voyage from Hogwarts to London had been awfully slow for Harry. There was the usual confrontation with Malfoy and his gang, which ended rather badly for Malfoy. He also learnt what was the deal between the Weasley Twins and Bagman, and eventually decided to give them the award from the tournament. He really had no need of it, and from what he had seen, he was certain that those two would do incredible things with that money.

Finally, when all that was done, and he was beyond the barrier of the platform, the only figure that stood out there was a rather… "familiar" one, if that was the correct word to use here.

"Professor Moody?"

"Wasn't much of a Professor, was I?" said the man, wearing a hat in such a way that it hid the magical eye. "I was told to get you Potter."

"Erm, actually, I'm waiting for…"

"For me. Grandmaster's orders."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. When he had seen Moody, he thought that he had been here at the orders of Dumbledore.

"You're with them?"

The man nodded, beckoning Harry to follow him. The teen did so, the two stopping at an empty bench. Moody sat down, Harry doing the same thing.

"That whole mess with Crouch was an embarrassment. We're lucky that he found nothing about us."

"You had nothing about them in your home?" asked Harry curious.

"You think I keep that sort of thing in my home, Potter?"

"I guess not. Didn't they use… the Imperius or that truth potion?"

Moody shrugged. "The trick about that, is not never reveal anything beyond what you're asked. And keep yourself silent when they're not specific enough. Works all the time. Any more questions Potter?"

"Why are there so many of you at Hogwarts? I mean… it's a school."

"It's also a recruiting ground," revealed the former Auror. "Pick the ones with most potential before anyone else gets their hands on them. It also ensures loyalty. You'll learn more when you meet the Grandmaster. By the way Potter… don't make any drama when meeting him."

"Drama? Do I know him?"

That had to be the only reason why Moody made such a warning.

"Technically no. But I'll say no more," he said, getting up from the bench and heading towards a car which had parked near them. "Put your stuff in there. Don't get in the car."

Harry put his trunk inside the car, as well as Hedwig's cage. He did not look at the driver, and as soon as he closed the door, the car left, leaving him with alone with Moody once more. The ex-auror led him into a nearby alley, and took out his hat, revealing the magical eye.

"Portkey to the headquarters," he explained. "Will activate in a few moments."

Remembering his experience with the boot portkey, Harry grabbed the hat. And true to Moody's words, the two wizards were gone from London moments later.

* * *

**Fort Cyrodiil, Scotland (U.K.)**

Upon arrival and recovery, Harry noticed the two had landed in a rather secluded area. All around him was forest, and there was nothing which really screamed "headquarters" about this area.

"Potter, read this," said Moody, handing to him a piece of paper.

Harry took hold of it, reading the small text.

* * *

_The headquarters of the Dragonguard is in Fort Cyrodiil, located in the Rhinns of Galloway, in Scotland_

* * *

As soon as he read the paper, the trees in front of him seemed to part, revealing a small and very old looking castle.

"Welcome to Fort Cyrodiil, Potter."

As he followed Moody, the guards inside the structure took notice of them, opening the gates for the two. As he stepped inside the fort, Harry was certain he had entered a completely different world. The people inside were not wearing neither modern nor wizard clothes, but a a very strange and foreign looking armour. Some were training in the courtyard, while others were simply guarding the castle.

Moody went towards a large door, opening it to reveal a stairway which led downward, meaning there was more of this structure underground. The hallways were of made of stone, and illuminated by both torches and braziers. There were more guards inside, as well as people who did not wear armour, but normal clothing instead. Well… normal to the place. He would certainly see no one wearing that in the middle of London, or any other city.

Finally, they reached a closed door, an ornate rhombus carved on it.

"These are the Grandmaster's quarters. You will meet him alone, and make sure to remember what I said."

Harry nodded, nervousness taking hold of him. "Ok."

"Good. I'll have to go now. Dumbledore needs help with his projects."

Moody left, leaving Harry alone in the corridor. He approached the door, and knowing how thick they were, he banged the door three times, upon which he heard a voice from the inside.

"Enter."

He opened the door, and as he entered the room, he saw that behind a desk, and reading a book, was a figure he had seen a few times. But only in paintings.

"Y-You…"

The man looked at Harry, a sly smile on his face.

"Welcome Harry Potter," he said. "This meeting has been long delayed."

Harry could not yet believe what he was seeing. "You're the Grandmaster of the Dragonguard?"

"Surprised?"

There was nothing but amusement in the man's voice.

"But you're…"

"I'm who, Mister Potter? Do tell me my name."

Harry's emotions shifted from surprise to outrage, and from outrage to confusion, and from confusion back to surprise. He had indeed seen that man in paintings before. In two specific locations.

One in the Headmaster's Office, and the other in the Dungeons.

"You're… you're Salazar Slytherin."

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _

As stated in the previous chapter, the Dragonguard has members everywhere. Alas, even the best have embarrassing moments which could ruin centuries of secrecy. To their luck, the secrecy remains. Also, Slytherin's "aliveness" will be explained in the next chapter, alongside many other things.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	3. The Dragonguard

* * *

"Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

_**Chapter 3 - The Dragonguard** _

**Fort Cyrodiil, Scotland (U.K.)**

"You're… you're Salazar Slytherin."

The smile on Slytherin's lips was nothing but eerie. Harry stared at the man, one which was supposed to be long dead, and whose bloodline caused him nothing but trouble. Well… trouble would be an understatement.

"Many years have passed since I took that name, and the role that came with it," he said.

The fact that he did not deny the identity was alarming to Harry. If this was true, then before him stood the epitome of pure-blood supremacy, somehow also the leader of an organisation which was supposed to protect his family.

Not to mention he was Voldemort's great-great-great… his ancestor.

"You're Slytherin… h-how…?"

The Grandmaster of the Dragonguard motioned towards a chair in front of the desk. "Please, sit down. A good explanation should not be done with you standing."

Harry stepped forward, sitting down in said chair, never taking his eyes from Salazar.

"As you noted, I am indeed Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. Alas, my role as Grandmaster of this order predates that of founder and professor at the school."

"How?"

Truly, this was perhaps the primary of his questions. How exactly was this man still alive after so many centuries?

"If I told you I was not your kind of human, would you believe it?"

Harry blinked his eyes, and he spoke a single word, no emotion behind it.

"What."

"Appearances deceive, Harry Potter. You more than most should be aware of that," said Slytherin. "I am not exactly the same type of human as you are."

"Not exactly human."

Beyond pure and utter disbelief, Harry's words conveyed little else.

"The name of my kind comes from our homeland. In your tongue, Snake Palace," revealed Salazar. "In ours, Tsaesci."

A bit exotic, Harry noted.

"Assuming this is true," spoke Harry. "That doesn't explain how you're alive."

"We have long lives, far longer than those of the other races. Also, we have a unique characteristic. As snakes shed their skin, so do we at certain points in our lives, either at will, or as a necessity of nature. However, in doing this, we are changed. Unfortunately, our bodies also reach a point when shedding the skin becomes impossible."

"And that's when you die."

Slytherin smiled. "You catch on quickly."

Harry nodded, yet still quite cynical about all this. There a moment of silence, before he finally decided to break it.

"The Dragonguard… what exactly is it?"

"For you to understand what the Dragonguard is, there are a few facts you must be made aware of first," declared Slytherin. "The Dragonguard, and your bloodline as well, remains on this world as exiles. Through arcane and highly dangerous magic, this world became our refuge, and we have remained here ever since."

"And I'm supposed to believe this is true?" asked Harry incredulous.

"Magic exists, does it not? A force the majority of this world's inhabitants consider to be nothing but a fable. And yet… we both know that is not the case, is it?"

He had to concede to Slytherin. The existence of magic and the Wizarding World was just as ridiculous as what Salazar spoke of, and yet both existed.

"Exiles then. Of what?" he questioned.

"Treachery of the highest kind. Your ancestor, Juilek Cyrodiil, was the son of Emperor Reman Cyrodiil III. The Emperor's… chief advisor arranged for the murder of the imperial family. Reman was killed, but Juilek escaped the assassins. A large portion of the Dragonguard took Juilek to a secluded location, where an elaborate ritual was performed to open a way between that world and this one. I personally do not know the details. The mages did all the work."

"Due to the 'schism' in the Dragonguard, I was chosen to take the role of Grandmaster, and have been so until this very day. When we reached this world, we build this fort, although it was different back then. Me and other three Dragonguard members made our objective to create a manner to sustain the ranks of the order for the years to come. It was during this period that we learned of a hidden society of wizards."

"You met the other founders during this period?" asked Harry.

"No. I already knew them. As I said, we were four, seeking the survival of the Dragonguard. I'm sure you can guess who the other three were."

More surprises. Good.

"The Founders were all members of the Dragonguard?"

"The one you call Helga Hufflepuff, not her real name of course, a Tsaesci like me. Godric and Rowena were not of our kind. Men of Tamriel, like you. Godric hailed from the region of Colovia, in Cyrodiil, while Rowena came from one of the kingdoms of High Rock."

This was oddly surprising. If the Four Founders were all members of this order, then why did they found Hogwarts as a school of magic.

"What was Hogwarts for then?"

"A recruiting ground. We saw the potential in the wizards of this world, and while we could not use their magic, what we learned of it was enough to… emulate it with our own. From the students, we picked those with the greatest potential, using the houses as the primary means of categorization," said Salazar. "My house would seek those with the potential for spies, and intelligence related tasks, Rowena sought those who would become a new generation of loremasters, Godric sought those who would become the soldiers of the order, and Helga sought those who would not fit in the other categories, yet were capable of showing great loyalty. A loyalty that would be directed to the order, and to the bloodline of Reman."

Then the story had been altered for the common wizards, those not see worthy of joining the Dragonguard. Yet in the end, it was practically the same tale.

"When Juilek died, the bloodline of Reman continued through his children. And while it has become diluted in all his descendants… the blood remained strong in one branch."

Harry instantly knew Slytherin had been talking about his family.

"How do you know that?"

"You will eventually learn. Of the Dragonguard, as you were told, we are an order sworn to protect the blood of the dragon, the blood of Reman Cyrodiil, by any means necessary. That has been our role, and it shall continue to be."

"If you were supposed to protect me, then why didn't you come to be before?"

Salazar sighed. "We could not. After the attack, Dumbledore took you to your mother's relatives, and from that moment on, you were under his heavy watch. We could not act, as doing so would attract Dumbledore's attention, and that would put the order's secrecy at risk. And with our secrecy at risk, our effectiveness in protecting you would be hindered. Besides, from what we gathered, you were protected from danger in that house."

"Did not protect me from the Dursleys," Harry mumbled bitterly.

"Don't create drama. You were not treated as a welcome guest in that house, true… but you were fed… and you had a bed to sleep on, with a roof and four walls around you. Your stay in that cupboard… and everything that happened to you during your life with the Dursleys… it did nothing but good to you."

Harry was outraged at this.

"Good? How exactly was that good?"

"Because Harry Potter, all that has made your stronger. It made you grow. For what is to come, a weakling will survive none of it," stated Salazar. "The Arena will make sure of it."

"Arena?"

"Tamriel. Or as the Aldmeri would call it, Dawn's Beauty. Your ancestral homeland, and where one day, you shall go to."

Tamriel was his family's homeland? And he would go there… for what reason?

"Why?"

"To claim what is yours by right. The throne of your ancestors, of Reman and his mother Al-Esh. The Ruby Throne requires someone with the right bloodline to sit upon it… and you are the only candidate available."

That had certainly not been Harry's expectation for this.

"Me, an emperor? That's… I'm not an emperor."

Salazar rose from his seat, beckoning Harry to follow him as he left the room. Harry followed Slytherin in silence, until the two reached a large doorway, similar to the one in the fort's entrance.

"You are correct Harry Potter. You are no emperor."

Salazar opened it, revealing a library filled with many books and scrolls, robed figures inside, reading, writing, or searching the shelves.

"At least, not yet."

* * *

Harry learned very quickly what it was that Salazar had planned for him. He had just left a school, only to enter another. The first month passed rather quickly. His mornings were spent in the courtyard and the general area around the fort, training his body and learning how to fight with weapons such as swords and bows. His afternoons were spent in a room inside the library, being instructed by one of the Dragonguard's lore keepers in matters of Tamriel and the Aurbis.

According to his instructor, that knowledge could be very well outdate for a modern-day Tamriel, but it would not hurt to have a general knowledge of both history, and the static things, such as the races, geography, and even religion. His evenings were spent in one of the fort's towers, learning the magic of the Aurbis, both in theory and practice. The gateway which the Dragonguard had used to travel into this universe had left a small gap open. Small enough to prevent any invasion from either side, but large enough to allow magicka from the Aurbis to leak into Earth, thus permitting the use of that type of magic. And his nights were spent asleep, which together with the weekends, were the only moments which he had to truly rest.

It was a slow month, during which Harry saw no familiar faces, besides the occasional visit from Salazar, overseeing his progress.

Yet that would change soon enough.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _

The Tsaesci as portrayed in this story follow my own headcanon of them, developed from both Oblivion (the game) and the Remanada. Also, to those worried, _The Rise of Cyrodiil_ is not abandoned. I'm simply taking a break from that story and the others.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	4. Silentarius

* * *

"Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

_**Chapter 4 - Silentarius** _

**Grimmauld Place 12, London, England (U.K.)**

"Any news Severus?"

As soon as he had the chance, Dumbledore had revived the Order of the Phoenix. Alas, this new order had neither the manpower nor the influence of its first incarnation, and so they were restricted in many things. Especially with the Ministry's opposition to the thought of Voldemort's return.

"The Dark Lord remains unaware of Potter's whereabouts," answered Snape. "None of his informants have discovered his location."

Dumbledore nodded. The fact that Voldemort had neither caught nor found Harry gave him hope that the boy was still alive and safe.

Yet unknown to the old headmaster, two of those present inside the room, while members of the Order of the Phoenix, their true loyalties lied elsewhere. The two silently analysed the procedures, mentally taking notes of the exchanged information and plans of the Order of the Phoenix. Moody, sitting near Dumbledore, while the other was at the far end of the table, near Molly Weasley.

Spinning false tales and providing false leads had been a rather easy task, and the fact that neither the Death Eaters nor the Order of the Phoenix had even imagined that another factor had been interested in Harry Potter facilitated their task.

But Harry's presence at the Fort would not be permanent, and upon his return, many unwanted questions would be asked.

That was certain.

* * *

**Fort Cyrodiil, Scotland (U.K.)**

The plate in front of Harry was nearly empty, a few rice grains remaining, the meat all gone now. His morning training was done, and his body was quite exhausted. With each day that passed, the sessions seemed to become tougher. The comments from his instructors suggested he was improving quickly, but he himself noticed no change. Perhaps the perspective of an expert in the matter was more accurate than his own.

"How do you fare this day Harry Potter?"

The wizard turned towards the approaching Grandmaster, seeing for the first time the man wearing Akaviri armour.

"Tired," he answered.

Salazar sat down near him. "Not unexpected."

The fact that Slytherin was here, made Harry remember a few things he wanted to ask.

"I've been meaning to ask you something… if you don't mind that is."

"Go ahead," said the Tsaesci.

"In the Wizarding World, you're one of the most famous blood-supremacists. The stories say you wanted only pure-bloods in Hogwarts. Why?"

What came from Salazar was a bitter laugh.

"I suppose I have to thank my wayward son for that."

"Your son?"

"I'm a mortal, Harry Potter. Like many, I was a victim of the temptations of the flesh. And this temptation came in the form of a young witch from this world," said Salazar. "Eventually, we had a son, but my duties with the Dragonguard made me a rather poor parent. I had little involvement with the child, and I could not steer him to the right path. His obsession with magic… with the ability to do magic, drew him to those beliefs of _blood purity._ _"_

"Then why does everyone say you were the supremacist?" asked Harry. "They even say you had an argument with the other Founders about it before you left Hogwarts."

"That argument had nothing to do with those topics. I was in disagreement with the others regarding certain… things. I decided to leave the school for a while, but eventually settled on not returning," explained the man. "I suppose later generations misinterpreted our argument, and together with the beliefs of my son and his descendants, I became a mythical pioneer for blood supremacy. By the time I realised how tarnished my reputation had been, and how Slytherin House had been corrupted by those beliefs, it was too late to do damage control."

That explained and clarified many things. Except for one.

"What about the basilisk? The legends say it was placed there to purge the school of impure students."

Salazar shook his head. "No. The creature was placed in the Chamber as one of quite a few protective layers. I did bound it to my blood, making it accept commands from those who shared their blood with me."

Harry had not missed the bit about "protective layers". While he wondered what exactly the Basilisk had been protecting, that would be left for later. Nevertheless, the blood binding explained how Tom Riddle had been capable of controlling it.

"So the legends about it being a weapon against muggleborns also came from that mess with your son?"

"Likely," agreed Slytherin.

Were it not such an unfortunate thing, it would be funny how one of the most important periods of the history of the British Wizarding World was built upon misunderstandings and misconceptions. Well, that was one thing clarified. Now, time for the other one.

"There's something else I've been meaning to ask," said Harry. "Why me?"

Slytherin looked at him with a confused expression. "Why you?"

"Yes, why me?" repeated Harry. "A long time has passed since my ancestor came here. Why did you pick me to be the one to return to Tamriel, and not one of my ancestors?"

The Grandmaster nodded, seeing this as a valid question.

"During the early period of our exile here, when your ancestors were still known as Cyrodiils, they amassed a significant influence in the area, one which could not be ignored by the king of these lands. Since none of us desired conflict against other forces, your ancestors entered the service of this king, and eventually were officially awarded these lands and recognised as… I think the original title was Mormaer of Cyrodiil, named after both the fort and family. It became Earl later, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's quite a demotion," said Harry.

From emperors to earls… still, he supposed it was better than nothing.

"True, but they cared little. All that mattered was that a potential threat had been neutralised, and we were free to remain here," continued Salazar. "Unfortunately, the comforts of nobility made your ancestors stagnant. This came to the point, where one of them, Linfred, came to be known as the Potterer, famous for making potions, and selling them in southern England as a hobby. Your family comes from this man, and was the only surviving legitimate branch of the Cyrodiils."

The bitterness in Salazar's words was not missed to Harry.

"You seem to resent them."

The man sighed. "I do, yes. Returning to the Aurbis without a promising leader to take the throne was essentially suicide. The lifestyle of the later Cyrodiils and that of the Potters made it impossible to do so. The majority of our original forces have died, never to see their homeland again. And those of us that survived until the present could do nothing but wait for the same fate. Until, of course, you came."

"And what makes me so different from them?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

"You suffered for the Wizarding World's safety, and received nothing but years of hardship in return. And yet when you returned to said world, you continued to, although both unwilling and unwittingly, work for the safety of its people," spoke Salazar. "You possess a strength of will that few are blessed with, and your resistance to the Imperius Curse proves it."

As Harry pondered Slytherin's words, the man in question rose from the bench.

"Speaking of which, I believe it is time for you to meet with someone," he said. "A meeting which has been long delayed."

"Who am I meeting?" asked Harry as he got up.

Slytherin beckoned Harry to follow him, the two entering the fort.

"I may have misled you before. It's not a single person you'll be meeting, but three," said Salazar. "They're a secret group within the Order. One may call then an order within the order."

"Who are they?"

"The group is called the Silentarius. Their existence is known only to a select few members of the Dragonguard, and for good reason. They were founded by Reman I, sometime before his death," revealed Salazar. "Their purpose is… odd. Reman formed the Silentarius as the means to preserve his memories, should he die."

"His memories? Are they chroniclers?" asked Harry.

"Not exactly," answered the Grandmaster. "It's difficult to describe properly what they are. An abridged description would be saying that they are the organic mnemonic engine of Reman's memories,"

"What."

"As I said, difficult to explain, even to me," affirmed Slytherin. "The process of becoming a Silentarii renders them mute, and while they have other means of communication… they don't use them. They only 'speak' to those they consider worthy."

"Am I worthy?" Harry asked uncertain.

"That is for them to determine."

Salazar led Harry to the depths of the underground structure, bringing him to a closed metallic door. There were no decorations on it, being as plain as possible, the only noteworthy feature there being its handle, which by itself was bland.

If he had to say, this door led to a storage room.

"In you go," said Salazar, motioning towards the door.

Harry stepped forward, opening the door and entering the room, hearing sound of metal hitting stone as the door closed behind him.

* * *

He was no longer in the fortress proper, but in what looked to be a natural cavern. If he had to guess, he would have to say it was around the size of the entire ground floor of the Dursley's house.

In the middle of the chamber were three thrones of stone, turned to a circular platform in the middle. In each throne sat a robed figure, their faces hidden under the hoods.

" _Welcome child of Ald Cyrod,"_ said a masculine voice in his mind. _"Stand before us."_

This mental intrusion startled Harry. So this was what Salazar meant by alternative methods of communication. He wasn't really sure of what to think of this. Harry stepped onto the platform, wondering what exactly was happening.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

" _You are here because you exist,"_ said the voice from before. _"You are here because you need us."_

Another voice spoke, this one a female voice.

" _You are Reman, son of Reman. Who are you but the imprisoned dragon?"_ it spoke. _"You sleep and sleep, yet cannot awake."_

Harry had no idea what they were talking about. What was all this nonsense?

"What are you talking about? You're making no sense?" he pressed.

" _The words you hear are unspoken. Their meaning hidden until eaten."_ Said the male one.

The Silentarii were speaking in riddles, that much he could perceive. He had to find a way to decipher the meaning of their words… if that was even possible.

" _Dead words cannot be eaten,"_ spoke the last one for the first time, its voice a mixture of male and female.

" _Heed you not the word-motions of Sophist-Who-Talks-In-Silence, who is stupid,"_ said the female voice, the head of the figure siting on the left throne turning towards the one who sat on the central throne.

What the hell was a word-motion? And what kind of name was "Sophist-Who-Talks-In-Silence"?

" _The consensus is dual, and triune rejected,"_ spoke the male one. _"For Orator-Who-Sings-Wordless has cast the vote of welcome, and Preacher-Who-Murmurs-Silent declares it absolute."_

Harry still had no idea what it meant, but it mattered little, as one by one, the three figures raised one of their hands, a bright light shining from them. It engulfed Harry, the chamber and all in it around him blurring into blackness, which was soon replaced by something else.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _

The Silentarium is a creation of my own, heavily based on the Mnemonic Planisphere of Sotha Sil, or at least its general concept.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	5. Reman

* * *

"Normal Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

* * *

_ **Chapter 5- Reman** _

The darkness around him seemed to shift strangely, a white mist at his feet being the only distinguishing feature of this void. Harry looked around to see if there was any other thing visible, but there was nothing. No sign of the cavern, nor of the Silentarius.

Harry took a tentative step forward, jumping backward when the mist rose, odd shapes forming before him. It was an instant before the shapes became clear, resembling ghostly humans. One of these was fallen, his wounds very clear, while the other was a glowing figure, most of his features hidden from Harry, especially the face, for it was blurred.

What was most odd, was the fact that this glowing figure had the stature of someone a bit younger than him, and there was a strange red gem in his forehead, the only coloured thing in this entire scenario.

A glance at his surroundings revealed to Harry the presence of many other figures around him, fallen warriors in a battlefield.

"You have dishonoured your station, me, and our dragons wise. Why did you attempt this and for whom?"

Harry immediately turned towards the two figures, the voice who spoke clearly young, yet possessing an unnatural authoritativeness.

The fallen man laughed proudly and spoke with broken words. "The Boy Crown Reman who lets priory girls fight his duels asks me this?"

Reman? This was Reman? The Silentarius were showing him a memory of Reman, but for what reason?

Yet the fallen knight continued. "That you have no idea why or wherefrom this sword issue came, this only underscores your unworthy claims of sovereignty and your misbegotten birth in dirt. You were just another rumour of snakes to us, it seemed, but after twelve years you have finally proved that here."

Those words caused a strange surge of bitterness and anger in Harry's mind, yet he felt as if they were simultaneously his and of someone else. He looked as Reman removed the knight's helm, before speaking once more.

"None But Ourself."

What followed was perhaps the most horrific thing Harry had seen until this moment. Reman bit the fallen knight's teeth with his own, ripping out the knight's lower jaw, before continuing to bite the knight's face until, for the lack of a better word, it exploded.

Having witnessed this, Harry was certain it was not the worst part. No, the worst part was the fact that he did not only saw it, but also felt it. He did not feel what the knight felt, that was sure, but what Reman felt while doing… that. It was as if he had been the one to bite into the man's face, and he also felt as it burst into gory bits onto his own. Even now he still felt them, and saw as Reman turned around, a tattered facial skin above his own.

And then, the boy-king spoke.

"Tell me now what else does not believe in or belong to me."

At those words, every single figure vanished into mist, the horrid sensation of before also fading away, yet not from memory. The presence had been vivid enough that he could now feel all from before as if ghosts.

Everything had returned to the misty void from before, yet this was to last only for a few instants, as the mist rose again, far more than before. Shapes began to form once more, more than just people, but terrain also. Near him was a figure, slightly larger than him, and Harry knew him to be Reman, for the red diamond from before remained upon his forehead.

The features of Reman had changed, for the emperor was no longer the boy-king from before, and too was his face with little blur, yet enough that the face of Reman remained obscured to him. But still he glowed as hot flames, a fire that was unquestionably mystical in its origin. At the back of Reman were many of those that followed him, and Harry knew them to be his legions, for in their cuirass was the red diamond as well, although this one lacked the flame of Reman, and their helmets held the horns of Morihaus, the consort of Al-Esh, mother of Reman.

The emperor beheld another army, this one covered in armour which Harry had seen hiding the skin of the Dragonguard. And if the Army of Reman was facing against the Akaviri, this would be before they had knelt to the emperor and sworn themselves to him. Yet none moved from their places. None besides Reman. He took eight steps forward and spoke. Yet they were not of parley, nor of taunt. And Harry felt the words on his tongue, and so did the land, and the skies, which were torn open as if parchment. And as they heard the voice of Reman, the Akaviri knelt before him, telling the emperor that they had come to find someone such as he, and that their task was complete.

And did the sight vanished as the first one did, and the mist rose once more to give birth to old shapes. Strange spires and spikes appeared before Harry, high scaffolds encircling them. In front of him was the familiar figure of Reman, and as he approached him, Harry saw once more the red diamond, and he saw too the face of the emperor. And it was not what he had been expecting to see, at all. No longer was the emperor blurred, but the face was certainly a resemblance of his own older and rougher. And all did disappear once more before him for the third time.

Yet this was not the end of the visions for Harry, for as the mist governed this void of memories, he saw countless more, seeing, feeling, and eating the memories until all that was left was pure darkness, and once more he saw with his own eyes, the void gone and replaced by the small dank cavern and its three inhabitants.

" _The dragon sleeps and awakes, bound to the red jewel of conquest,"_ spoke the voice of Orator-Who-Sings-Wordless.

And then spoke Preacher-Who-Murmurs-Silent. _"The words of Ald-Cyrod are eaten. Nu-Cyrod shall speak them in turn. AE ALD ALTADOON AE NUVIR."_

And thus, no more words were spoken, and knowing that his time there was done, Harry left the chamber. Yet as he looked back at the memories of Reman, he could not look at his ancestor without seeing him with his own face.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _

Content of this chapter was taken from the Shonni-Etta excerpts, specifically the first memory of Reman that Harry saw. A warning if you are curious about them. It's a NSFW piece of literature.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	6. An Unforeseen Change

_**Chapter 6 – An Unforeseen Change** _

**Fort Cyrodiil, Scotland (U.K.)**

Drops of sweat flowed down Harry's face, his opponent standing in front of him at his knees and unarmed.

"That's enough Potter!" commanded his instructor, a gruff old man. "Try to increase your grip on your weapon Ainsley."

"Yes sir," said the defeated trainee, getting up and picking up his fallen weapon before he left the area.

The Dragonguard trainer approached Harry.

"Bloody hell Potter, you're a damn machine!" he exclaimed. "I've never seen a novice with your skills."

Harry shrugged. "I guess it just comes."

"It better continue to come then. Everyone's expectations of you are high. And no one's looking for a disappointment."

That much was a given. He still wondered what exactly Slytherin was expecting to do, in order to go ahead with the Dragonguard's plan.

"Potter!"

He turned around at the familiar voice.

"Professor Moody!"

"Again with the 'professor'? Bah, never mind!" grunted the man. "I see you're still giving the youngsters hell, eh Merton?"

The instructor, Merton, gave a loud laugh. "Well, if it isn't Alastor Moody! Missing the old days?"

"Not even close," replied Moody.

But there was someone else with Moody, Harry realised. It was a woman, a few years older than himself, he had to guess.

"What about you Nymphadora? Came back to the Fort to hone your training?"

The woman - a rather distinctive feature of hers being the pink hair - scowled at Merton.

"Don't call me Nymphadora! And no, did not."

The instructor snorted. "Heh, fair enough. I'll leave you lot to your work. I have rookies to train."

He left, leaving Harry alone with Moody and Nymphadora.

"I see your training is going well," commented Moody.

"As well as it can go," said Harry, before looking at the woman. "And this is?"

"Tonks," she said. "A pleasure Harry."

He could only assume that was her surname.

"Likewise. What brings you to the fort?"

"Passing information to the Grandmaster," said Moody. "Me from the Order, and Tonks from the Aurors."

That was something Harry had not heard before. "What Order?"

"Dumbledore's. He brought an old group back together after you announced You-Know-Who's return," said Tonks. "The Order of the Phoenix."

"Never heard of it."

"Wouldn't expect you to," said Tonks, giving a wink. "It's secret."

"It so happens that the Order is searching for you," said Moody. "It also so happens that the Death Eaters are also looking for you."

"Good thing we have informants on both, eh?" said Harry.

"Good indeed Harry," said Tonks, before shivering. "Wow. I don't remember the fort being this cold in summer."

"Yeah…" mumbled Harry.

Truth is, it was quite warm a few minutes ago. And now the temperature had suddenly dropped. In fact, it was still dropping, unnaturally fast. He could now see his own breath, as if it was a cold day of winter. The blue sky itself had been hidden under dark clouds, and a chilly wind was felt throughout the entire fort.

Moody and Tonks quickly had their wands out, Harry following suit. He was recognising these effects, and it seemed that the other two had as well.

"Is this… them?" he asked.

He received no answer, for Moody and Tonks were examining the area, seeking out the source of this sudden change.

"There!" cried out Tonks, pointing at the sky.

They had not been the only ones on the lookout, as other members of the Dragonguard looked at where Tonks was pointing. Harry did as well, and he saw two black forms high above the fort, as if vultures seeking out a carcass. Yet, wasn't the fort protected by the Fidelius Charm?

"Isn't there a Fidelius Charm protecting this place?" asked Harry.

"That doesn't prevent them from sensing us," replied Moody.

Tonks motioned her wand, casting the spell. "Expecto Patronum!"

From the wand came a rabbit, which flew straight at the Dementors hovering above the fort. Her action was followed by those with the magical abilities of Earth and knew how to cast the Patronus Charm, yet Harry was stopped by Moody before he could also cast it.

"Don't do that Potter!" he barked. "You have the Trace!"

"Too late for that Mad-Eye. That thing detects in area, not by caster."

"Balls!"

If his encounter with Dobby before his second year at Hogwarts was what it was, then this whole mess wasn't going to end well for him. Especially if what he was hearing from other Dragonguard wizards about the Ministry's campaign to discredit him was true.

On the plus side, the Dementors had been repelled by the many Patronuses.

"Potter, get inside the fort," ordered Moody. "It's safer for you there."

* * *

Harry sat in Slytherin's quarters, a sealed letter from the Ministry in front of him. Salazar sat on the other side of the desk, fingers intertwined and starring intensely at the letter, while Moody simply observed the two.

"An owl was found flying around the fort, carrying this letter," spoke Salazar. "I believe you're its recipient. Do open it."

Harry grabbed the envelope, opening it and taking out the letter.

* * *

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twelve minutes past eleven this morning in an uninhabited area and in the presence of Muggles._

_The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office Ministry of Magic_

* * *

He had read the letter aloud, and considering what had happened earlier, he was not really surprised.

"So… what happens now?" he asked.

"This area is protected by the Fidelius Charm, which means that as much as the Ministry can try, they will not be able to find or enter it," spoke Salazar. "Those representatives will likely be heading to the house of your aunt and uncle."

"And the hearing?"

"You will not go," declared Salazar. "From what we have gathered on the current status of the Ministry, the outcome will be that of a kangaroo trial."

So that meant he was not returning to Hogwarts. It was not a pleasant sensation, as the castle had been his home for the last four years.

"Not returning to Hogwarts then."

"For now, no," spoke Salazar. "You will remain here, preparing yourself for what is to come. In the meantime, Alastor, order the members of Dumbledore's Order to prepare for the exodus. It will likely occur before the end of this year, so tell them to deal with any unfinished business they may have."

Moody nodded. "Yes sir."

The ex-auror left the quarters, leaving Harry alone with Salazar.

"The exodus?"

Salazar nodded. "Our departure from this world… this universe. All temples of the Dragonguard must be warned that the procedures are about to commence. And keep in mind Harry, that the Order is not restricted to the temples. We have people scattered across many other organisations. You have seen a small local influence, in the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix, but our reach is long."

"How long?"

"Universities, businesses, armies, governments. We have people everywhere, in the humblest of places, to the highest. From the grocery shop down the street, to the College of Cardinals," said Slytherin. "If we were to survive, we needed people in the lowest and high places. The kind of organisation that leads to conspiracy theories, except we make sure our existence is kept secret by using… let's call them skins. We put the skin of the so-called New World Order, and make sure the common people don't see what's under it."

"So, all those crazy people out there… they're the Dragonguard's fault?"

Salazar seemed to be offended. "By the Eight, course not! The insanity was already theirs. We just made use of it."

That wasn't reassuring at all.

"Regardless, there's a lot of work to be done. Resources to be gathered, and that sort of thing. Not to mention we'll have to find a way to make thousands of people fit in here. The next few months will be rather eventful for us."

* * *

As per Salazar's instructions, Harry did not left the fort, and neither did the ministry representatives found him, leading to what could be best described as a manhunt. It would lead nowhere of course, but unfortunately, this would do no good to Dumbledore's cause.

The month of August moved on quickly, Harry's usual routine continuing the same. He noticed there was a highly large influx of people during the last few days, and from what he could tell and hear, quite a few of them were foreigners. Eventually, it reached the point where camps were beginning to be set outside the fortification, which in turn required the expansion of the protections.

Yet while this happened, it seemed that Salazar had prepared another surprise for him, if one could count his encounter with the Silentarius as a surprise. Salazar had brought him to the western tower of the fort, at its base being located the smithy. Harry followed Salazar inside, the chamber being somewhat darkened due to the black smoke.

"What are we here for?" he asked.

"I ordered something prepared for you, many weeks ago," said Salazar. "I was informed it is ready."

Salazar led Harry to a side chamber, essentially a small armoury where the items finished by the blacksmith were stored until collection. There, on a mannequin, was a pristine set of golden armour, the likes of which Harry had only seen in pictures.

"I ordered the creation of a special suit of armour for you. Made using the special storages of materials which we brought with us from Tamriel," said Salazar. "The armour itself is made using ebony, while the surface is decorated with gold."

In Harry's opinion, the entire set was amazing to look at.

"Quite a few soul gems were used to enchant it, so I believe you'll find it rather… protective and light."

Since this armour was finished and made for him… perhaps it was time to test it.

Maybe for an hour or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a visual of the armour, search for ESO's emperor costume.
> 
> The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	7. Chim-el Adabal

_**Chapter 7 – Chim-el Adabal** _

**Hogwarts School, Scotland (U.K.)**

The month was October, and tensions at Hogwarts were at an all-time high. With the expulsion of Harry and his subsequent disappearance, opinions regarding him at Hogwarts were rather polarised. The introduction of a certain Dolores Umbridge - a staunch supporter of the Ministry - as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts did nothing to help the general environment, and neither did the certain of the position of High Inquisitor which was awarded to Umbridge herself. Her creation of the Inquisitorial Squad, essentially an empowered gang of Slytherins, did not make things any easier.

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were essentially in a cold civil war, while Slytherin was the most homogeneous of the Four Houses, although with a silent minority amongst them. The first three houses had begun to divide themselves into factions, and their choice of seat of the students at the tables of the Great Hall reflected that quite well. All was out of the hands of the professors, even Umbridge, and that didn't please any of them.

"Albus, are you well?"

Dumbledore sat in the Headmaster's Throne, an odd expression on his face, something which had been noticed by McGonagall.

"I… do not think so Minerva," he answered. "There's something wrong with the school."

Minerva looked at him exasperated.

"Of course something is wrong Albus! That much is known by all of us!"

But Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no. Not that. It's something else. Something fundamental changed in the school moments ago… but I can't figure out what it was."

Minerva glanced around the Great Hall, filled with all the students as it was lunch time. She found nothing wrong with it. But Dumbledore was the headmaster, and they usually had a special connection with the school.

Very few minutes had passed after Dumbledore's remark, and suddenly, the one of the two golden doors of the Great Hall were opened, Argus Filch stumbling inside with a look of panic on his face, running as best as he could towards the Staff Table.

"Headmast- Headmaster!" panted Filch, his voice as loud as he could manage. "There's… there's an arm… there's an army outside!"

Silence fell upon the Great Hall, all students and staff looking at the panicked caretaker, his words slowly sinking in.

"Outside!"

Dumbledore and the other professors rose from their seats, yet before they could even leave the vicinity of the Staff Table, the doors of the Great Hall were burst open, many of the students inside startled by the sudden invasion, while some cried out in fear. In came a multitude of armoured and strangely robed figures, three amongst them walking down the empty space in the middle, between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Dumbledore, a clear outrage replacing his usual calm behaviour.

"As of now, Hogwarts Castle is under the control of the Dragonguard," declared the middle figure, tallest amongst the three.

Dumbledore could not help but feel familiar with the man's voice.

"The what?" demanded McGonagall.

"We will not waste time explaining in detail what we are," spoke the man once more. "We came here to fulfil our goals, which will not cause you any harm, or to this castle. Hinder us at your own peril."

"Your goals?"

The man nodded, turning to the students. "There are those amongst you who belong to the Order. I need not to speak names, for you know of whom I speak. The Exodus has begun. You have been informed of what this means, and now I urge you to ready yourselves for what is to come."

Immediately as those words were said, several students rose from their seats, much to the surprise of their fellow peers. The surprise was even greater in Slytherin, where a rather small but sizable number of students also rose, amongst them Theodore Nott. And the students were not only those who rose, as three professors also followed suit, although none of the core classes.

It took little time for Dumbledore and other to deduce what was transpiring.

"You had agents in our school," he accused.

"In this school, and many other places," replied the man, who began to glance around. "Things have changed around here."

"You were a student here?" asked Flitwick.

He received a laugh in return. "A student? Oh, I'm afraid not. A professor, long before your time."

At those words, the man removed his helmet, revealing his face to Dumbledore and the rest of the Hall. A face which the Headmaster had seen daily in a portrait up in his office, and one which others recognised.

"You! What are you doing here?" demanded Dumbledore.

McGonagall was equally shocked. "Slytherin? Salazar Slytherin? But you're supposed to be dead."

"I'm afraid my time hasn't come yet madam," said Salazar.

"What is this then?" spoke Sprout. "An army of pure-bloods?"

"On the contrary my dear," said one of the other armoured figures, this one a woman. "All that talk of blood purity does not concern us at all."

She removed her helmet, revealing also another face familiar to Dumbledore and inhabitants.

"Dear Merlin!" cried out Sprout.

"He was one of mine, you know," remarked Salazar. "One of us, to be precise."

"It is certainly good to be back here," said the woman merrily, ignoring Slytherin's remark. "A shame it will be for a short time."

Dumbledore was not sure if he was dreaming or not. "Helga Hufflepuff?"

"In flesh and bone."

"There only one way to confirm this," said Dumbledore, vanishing immediately after saying those words.

Moments later, Dumbledore reappeared, yet carrying what looked like four portraits. With his wand, Dumbledore kept them afloat, allowing them to observe the newcomers.

The portrait of Salazar did not seem happy about being abruptly moved. "Dumbledore, what's the meaning of… oh."

And then he and the other three portraits saw the reason they had been brought to the main hall.

"Tell me, are these your real selves?" asked Dumbledore.

"Of course they are, you old fool!" spoke Salazar's portrait. "Who else were they supposed to be?"

The presence of Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff, and the confirmation of their identity caused a ripple of shock amongst the students, and one of glee in those of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, upon realising that their respective founder was there. Yet some could not help but feel that something was not right.

"Is it time?" asked the portrait of Rowena.

"Indeed it is, my old friend," answered Salazar.

"They look confused," said the third figure in amusement, a voice which was immediately recognised by Dumbledore and most of those present.

"Harry?"

He removed the helmet, revealing his face, more silence falling upon the Great Hall.

"So it is Harry Potter then," said Salazar's portrait. "Quite surprising but understandable."

"Hello professor," said Harry. "It's been a while."

"Potter?" spoke his opponents and acquaintances, the former in outrage and the latter in confusion.

Yet his friends had other reactions.

"Harry!"

Harry turned at the voices of Ron and Hermione, who had gotten up immediately as soon as he revealed himself. Yet he raised a hand, urging them to stop before they could do anything else.

"Wait there. For now," he commanded.

There was a tone in his voice that all found odd. The authority with which Harry had spoken was rather… odd.

"Hem hem," coughed Umbridge. "What do you think you're doing here Potter? You have been expelled from Hogwarts. In fact, you're a fugitive of the Ministry of Magic!"

Harry looked at the woman, her appearance reminding him of a pale toad. A large one at that.

"And you are?"

Yet she could not answer, as Salazar did that for him. "She is Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. And a professor at Hogwarts as well."

"Ah! A sycophant."

"How dare you!" said Umbridge.

"Be silent, will you!" spoke Helga. "You have no influence in what comes."

Umbridge took a step back, in shock at the utter disrespect towards her.

"I will not toler-"

She never finished her sentence, as then Harry spoke. Whatever he said, none could understand, but the effects of his words on the Great Hall were seen and felt immediately. A thunder-like rumble shook the ground, the tables and floor cracking and the glass of the windows bursting outwards.

Some students cried out in terror, but the Dragonguard stared in awe and reverence, for the majority had only heard of such an example of power in the tales of the Akaviri Invasion of Tamriel, and now they had witnessed the voice of Reman. And Salazar and Helga, who lived during those years and had experienced the voice itself, could not help but be reminded of the power possessed by Reman, power that now belonged to the last legitimate member of his bloodline.

"I suggest you obey Helga," said Harry. "My own patience is limited."

Umbridge remained silent, looking in utter terror at Harry, unwilling to do anything against him in fear of retribution.

"Good. Helga, make sure no one attempts to interfere while we go and finish our task," commanded Salazar.

She nodded. "Very well."

And then Salazar turned around, followed by Harry, the two leaving the Great Hall alone, and heading towards the Grand Staircase.

* * *

They had reached their destination, beneath Hogwarts, a large and flooded chamber with many serpentine statues and the corpse of a basilisk. And ahead of them, was the statue of Salazar himself.

"A shame about this," said Slytherin, looking at the dead creature. "It could have been useful in the future."

"Of course, a giant snake whose eyes kill anyone who look at them," replied Harry. "Certainly no accidents would come from that."

"Yes, that would cause trouble," mumbled Slytherin.

Then there was the stench of the rotting basilisk, unpleasant enough that both Salazar and Harry had to cover their noses upon entering the Chamber of Secrets.

"So, what now?" asked Harry.

"Now, we enter the statue's mouth," said Salazar, casting upon himself a levitation spell.

Harry did the same, following the man towards the statue's head, and into its open mouth, having been in that state since Riddle's memory had called out the basilisk. Inside was a slim passageway, large enough for a human to walk through, and for the basilisk to slither through as well. Eventually, they reached a dry chamber, with nothing but a small metallic door.

"This is where the snake was," said Salazar, heading to the door, opening it easily. "Protecting the next chamber."

Harry followed Salazar into the next room, a bit larger than the previous one. Inside was a strange circular platform in the middle, while on the opposite side of the room was a large gate, with a luminous barrier protecting it.

"This is the other defence mechanism. A Blood Seal, which only opens to those with the blood of the dragon. Your blood," explained Slytherin, taking out a small dagger. "Shall we?"

Harry nodded, approaching the blood seal, while removing one of his gauntlets. Salazar took hold of Harry's hand, slicing one of his fingers. Harry hissed at the sharp pain, watching as a few drops of blood fell on the blood seal. Instants later, the seal began to glow brightly, and Harry watched as it rearranged itself to form an Akaviri symbol. At the same time, the enchantment on the large gate vanished, and the doors were opened.

Casting upon himself a healing spell, Harry put back the gauntlet, and walked into the newly revealed chamber. It was smaller than the previous ones, despite the size of the gates. Inside was only a small brazier, floating above it a strangely familiar amulet.

"Here it is. Chim-el Adabal," said Salazar. "The Amulet of Kings. Well, the original that is."

That remark did not escape Harry. "The original?"

"Your ancestor Juilek enjoyed exploring Ayleid ruins. In one of those, he found the remaining part of the soul gem used to carve the first Chim-el Adabal, and ordered the creation of a second Amulet of Kings," he said. "An analysis of the two amulets made it clear that the two were… connected. He swapped the newly created one with the original, to see if his father, would notice. He did not."

"Then why didn't he swap them back?"

"The war against Morrowind got in the way, and then there was also the assassination attempt," responded Salazar. "This one came with us, while the other one remained on Tamriel."

Salazar took hold of the Amulet of Kings, before urging Harry to follow him back out of the statue's interior. In no time, the two were back up in Hogwarts proper, and the two quickly returned to the Great Hall.

* * *

Those students and professors who had left had now returned, luggage behind them and near the entrance. All watched as Harry and Salazar returned to the Great Hall, the latter with the legendary Amulet of Kings on his hand.

"May I ask where you went?" spoke Dumbledore, as they approached him.

"The Chamber of Secrets," answered Harry. "To recover something."

This time it was Snape who spoke. "Recover something Potter? Isn't that place supposed to be empty of everything but the corpse of a giant snake?"

"That's what I wanted everyone to believe," said Salazar.

"But you placed the basilisk there, did you not?" demanded McGonagall. "That thing killed one student, and almost killed several others!"

"Alas, the blame falls on my misguided descendants. It was never my intention for the basilisk to be used in such a way."

The words of Salazar confused many. If the monster of Slytherin had not been placed in his chamber to later exterminate all those of impure blood in Hogwarts, then why did it even exist.

"Your descendants?" asked Snape.

"No matter what history says, I was never a blood-purist," he revealed. "The ideals of my son and those of his descendants did twist my image, to the point where any damage control was impossible."

He then turned towards the Slytherin table.

"It was never my intention for my House to be turned into a nest of prejudice and ignorance, filled with pure-blood supremacists. Slytherin was to be the House of cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition. It pains me to see most of its students as anything but that. The Sorting Hat has done a very poor work regarding the selection of students."

The words of Salazar Slytherin himself against the members of the house he had founded caused a profound shock in the inhabitants of Hogwarts, especially those of Slytherin House, who stared at their founder in horror, while a few rightly looked ashamed.

"But… your discussion with Godric Gryffindor…" said Flitwick.

"That? Ha!" bellowed the portrait of Gryffindor. "A heated row between friends, nothing more. We got over it days later."

Salazar nodded. "I did decide to not return to Hogwarts, so I assume that's where the legend surrounding my departure came from. But none of that matters now."

With the Amulet of Kings in his hand, Salazar approached Harry, and knelt before him, a move which astonished the inhabitants of Hogwarts.

"My Lord Reman, the Amulet of Kings is yours."

It had been the name of his choice, using Reman in public situations, while keeping Harry as a private name. He took the Amulet, grasping the golden clasp, before placing the pendant around his neck. Instants after doing so, every single member of the Dragonguard knelt as Salazar did. It was unquestionable.

Once more after a millennium, they had found the Dragonborn again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I know that the Inquisitorial Squad was only created after Umbridge became Headmistress, I decided to follow the film's events, placing its creation directly after she became High Inquisitor.
> 
> The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.


	8. Vengeance

_**Chapter 8 – Vengeance** _

**Hogwarts School, Scotland (U.K.)**

The Great Hall emanated with pure confusion and shock. Of the scene that had occurred there, its main protagonist was Harry Potter. Said teenager was completely armoured, with a strange amulet at his neck, not wearing his glasses for some reason, and with a small army and two of the founders of Hogwarts kneeling before him.

"Rise, my Dragonguard," he ordered.

And this command they obeyed.

"Lord Reman? I'm afraid I don't follow Harry," said Dumbledore, a bit staggered by this whole ordeal.

Harry turned to the headmaster. "The name of my ancestor, Reman Cyrodiil, which I took as my own. The Potters had to come from somewhere, didn't they?"

"Cyrodiil… that name is familiar," mumbled Dumbledore.

It took a few instants to recall why such a name was familiar to him. An old and rather strange clan of wizards from southern Scotland, whose name had disappeared centuries ago, and whose most famous member was the potioneer Linfred, who was also curiously the last remembered one. Albus had also not been the only one to make the connection, as those familiar with the history of potion-brewing would have seen the name Linfred Cyrodiil mentioned a few times, together with his sobriquet, "the Potterer".

"My lord," spoke Helga. "There is still the matter of the prisoners."

"I have not forgotten about them, Helga," said Harry, before turning to the group near the entrance. "Captain Aetius, bring them in!"

"Yes sir!"

"Prisoners?" asked McGonagall.

Harry glanced at the entrance, watching as four of the Dragonguard dragged two robed and chained figures, their heads covered by a black hood, making it impossible for anyone to see their faces, before unceremoniously dropping them at Harry's feet. The chains had a strange glow, odd and foreign to anyone unfamiliar with the magic of the Aurbis.

"Harry… who are they?" asked Dumbledore, quite worried.

"Months ago, I announced the return of Voldemort. Yet the Wizarding World refused to believe me. While not at his hands, Cedric Diggory was killed at his orders, by one of his Death Eaters," spoke Harry in a loud voice, allowing for everyone in the Great Hall to hear him. "In my third year, I met with Sirius Black, which everyone believes to have been a Death Eater and the betrayer of my parents. I found that was a lie, and that the so-called hero Peter Pettigrew was not only alive, but it was he the traitor, not Sirius. Yet no one believed.

Harry motioned towards one of the prisoners, a Dragonguard pulling him to his knees.

"I intend to settle a few things today."

At those words, Harry ripped away the hood, revealing the face of Peter Pettigrew to everyone in the Great Hall. There were several gasps at the reveal, drowning out the whimperings of Pettigrew, his mouth covered by a cloth, impeding him from speech. The surprise was essentially universal, and even Dolores Umbridge was stunned by the presence of a man thought to be dead.

However, those few who knew of the truth were also surprised. And this surprise came from the fact that Harry had somehow managed to capture Pettigrew.

"Behold, the face of a traitor," snarled Harry, nothing disguising the venom in his voice.

Dumbledore approached them. "How?"

"Rather easy when you have people in the Death Eaters," said Salazar. "Give the order and the resources, and then you just have to wait."

"Shall I, or shall you?" spoke Harry.

Salazar nodded, approaching Pettigrew. "In the name of His Majesty, Reman Cyrodiil, Underking of Nu-Cyrod, you, Peter Pettigrew, are condemned to death for treason against the bloodline of Reman, and association to the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort."

There was a general alarm at the sudden proclamation of Pettigrew's death sentence, but none more than in Wormtail himself, who screamed behind the cloth gag. In a swift move, Salazar took out his sword, a beheaded Pettigrew, his head rolling down and falling near Helga's feet.

There were screams of fear, coming from the younger students, and the faces of the professors reflected horror.

"Harry, what have you done?" said Dumbledore.

"Vengeance," he declared. "But it's not over."

Harry approached the other prisoner, a strange smile on his face.

"You would expect this one to have put up more of a fight… but really, you can't do much when you're suddenly paralyzed."

The other two Dragonguard grabbed the second prisoner, and Harry removed the hood. This time, the reaction was far more extreme from the professors, who immediately had their wands pointed at the prisoner, while the students, never having seen this individual personally before, knew not who he was, although some had their guesses.

"I present to you, Tom Riddle. Otherwise known as Lord Voldemort."

As it was with Wormtail, Voldemort too was gagged, the chains both burdening him, and until their arrival at Hogwarts, another with kept him paralysed. Unlike Pettigrew, Voldemort was skilled enough to apparate without a wand, and that had to be prevented. Now, it was no longer necessary.

Harry motioned to Aetius, and the man removed the cloth gag from Voldemort. Surprisingly, the dark wizard was rather calm, almost as if he cared not about his capture.

"How?" asked Dumbledore.

"The same way I escaped from the graveyard," said Harry. "I have to thank Captain Aetius for that."

"A pleasure, my lord," replied Aetius.

Dumbledore looked at him. "Aetius? Aetius Nott?"

At Slytherin's permission, Nott removed the helmet.

"Yes, me. Surprised Albus? You would not be unfamiliar with informants. You have one yourself," declared Nott, motioning towards Snape.

In mere moments, the societal foundations of many pure-bloods were being shattered. Aetius Nott was a known pure-blood supremacist, and here he was, serving the antithesis of pure-bloods.

"You're surprisingly silent Riddle," said Harry. "No monologues?"

Voldemort chuckled. "I know what's coming Potter. But you should know that it is useless. I cannot die."

"We searched into your claims and what you could have done to secure your… immortality," spoke Salazar. "We reached a few conclusions, and one of them was the most promising. How many times have you split your soul?"

If Voldemort's reaction was to say anything, then they had the right guess.

"More than one it seems," said Harry. "We did find a way to circumvent what you did."

Nott handed a small pouch to Harry, who in turn removed a black gem from within.

"This is a Black Soul Gem, a magical item capable of trapping souls of sapient beings within it. Not like what you created Voldemort, because the soul is fully trapped within, unable to influence exterior," said Harry. "In other words, you die here, your soul is captured by the soul gem. No more resurrections."

He handed the gem to Aetius. A strange purplish energy appeared in Harry's hand, and he directed said energy at Voldemort. Having done so, Voldemort's body gained a purple glow, the spell having taken effect.

"Harry, what are you-?" interjected Dumbledore.

"Do not interfere headmaster. I want this to be quick," declared Harry.

Harry unsheathed his sword. Far more ancient than the castle of Hogwarts itself, it was allegedly the sword of Reman I himself. While the veracity of these claims was debatable, the fact that the sword had been in the possession of Juilek Cyrodiil was not. The Dragonguard had made sure to take care of the sword, and now here it was, in his hands, ready to be rebaptised in blood.

"Tom Riddle, or Voldemort as you call yourself, for your actions, I hereby condemn you to death. The sentence shall be carried out immediately."

The fear in Voldemort's eyes was evident, and there was little he could do as the sword separated his head from the rest of the body. A wraith-like apparition remained in the exact same position as Voldemort had been at the time of his execution, before it was drawn against its will into the soul gem, loosing shape and becoming mere tendrils of energy.

It was done. Voldemort was dead, his soul trapped and unable to escape as it did before.

Harry looked at the corpse of the one who had been his mortal enemy, and found himself and his family avenged. Perhaps he could not say the same for all others whose lives had been ruined by Voldemort and his followers, but perhaps his public death here would truly bring peace to them.

As everyone did look at the fallen body of Voldemort, Dumbledore did too look at the body of Tom Riddle, and could not help but find this situation a bit surreal. He knew of the prophecy, and how it said that one needed to die at the hand of the other. Yet he never expected it to happen in such a way.

"I would suggest to put their heads on a spike at the Ministry, but I'll leave what happens to their bodies up to you headmaster," said Harry.

"Harry…I… do you have any idea of what you just did?" asked Dumbledore, a grave look on his face.

"No. Too busy thinking about my expulsion," deadpanned Harry.

Truth be told, he wasn't so sure about this at all. This was the first time he killed someone personally, and the sensation was… odd. The moment he swung the sword towards Voldemort's neck, there was nothing but a desire of vengeance against the one that had ruined his life. Yet as soon as he saw the head fall on the floor, and the soul being captured… there was nothing.

He had experienced biting off a man's jaw, before essentially eating his face, killing him in the process, as well as many other gruesome things during his meeting with the Silentarius. And they had been as personal as this one, if not more. As he saw it, the killing of Voldemort was just one more to add to that list.

"It's called an execution," he said, sheathing the sword.

Umbridge seemed to have gathered the courage to speak up again. "Execution, Potter? Death sentences are issued and carried out by legal entities. And you are not a legal entity!"

Harry chuckled. "Oh, yeah… I may have forgotten to mention something."

The expression on Harry's face emanated nothing but mischievousness, making him look like a child who could not contain his excitement at the prospect of a successful prank.

"Tell me, was there any post today?"

There were whispers amongst the students, realising that a rather trivial thing as the post had not even arrived today in the morning, and yet no one noticed it. And if they did, no one spoke up. And the professors too, realised the same thing.

"No, there was not," replied McGonagall. "What does that have to do with this Potter?"

"Tell me, who controls the post network?"

"The Ministry," she replied, as if it was something everyone knew.

Harry nodded, a rather noticeable smugness in his motion. "Exactly."

It took only a few moments before many began to understand what Harry was implying, while the younger and more uninformed students whispered to the others, wondering what Harry was talking about. Yet amongst those who knew of these things, there was no doubt about Potter's implications.

"I asked a little favour to Salazar, which he was too happy to follow with. Before we left, I wanted this world fixed, or at least, to have the foundations of said fixing laid in place. It took a while to prepare though, but your Ministry of Magic fell this morning to the forces of the Dragonguard."

And so there was the confirmation of their fears.

"I am technically your new Minister for Magic."


	9. Underking

_**Chapter 9 - Underking** _

**Ministry of Magic, London, England (U.K.)**

Despite the coup, the halls of the Ministry of Magic were as busy as ever. It was obvious that bureaucracy would always find a way, and a coup would do nothing to stop it. In fact, it generated even more, this slice in the hands of those who had taken over the Ministry, specifically Harry.

Having departed from Hogwarts, Harry now focused on the Ministry, regarding this experience as a personal test for what was to come.

He was in the lower levels of the Ministry, within Courtroom Ten. Harry sat at the tallest bench, overlooking those on the floor below, the remaining seats occupied by the members of the Wizengamot. That is, those who once were part of the Wizengamot, as it had been temporarily disbanded. As far as everyone was concerned, their presence was just for show, a symbol of their subservience to the Underking.

"Trial dealing with offences committed by former Minister for Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge, taking place on the sixteenth of October. Interrogators: Reman Cyrodill, otherwise known as Harry James Potter, Underking; Salazar Slytherin, Potentate; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley."

The announcement had been made by Salazar, his name causing whispers and gasps. It mattered little, as did the presence of Amelia Bones amongst the interrogators. She was there for the purpose of legitimacy, nothing more. And Percy… he was a tool.

Fudge was sitting on the centre of the room, the chair he sat on not binding him to them on Harry's will.

"Cornelius Fudge," said Harry. "You are hereby accused of defamation and malpractice. How do you plea?"

The former minister had seen better days. Whatever confidence he once had was shattered once the post and power of Minister for Magic had been stripped from him during the coup, and now he was at the mercy of the one he had worked against for the last months.

"Guilty," he declared.

He knew exactly what he had done, and so did those with common sense.

"So noted," spoke Salazar. "You are aware of what the sentence for these acts is, correct?"

Fudge nodded.

"Good. However, in light of the circumstances, I'll be merciful," said Harry. "You are sentenced to five years of home confinement. You shall be later informed of the conditions of your confinement."

It so happened that Fudge had been one of the first to be tried, with others following. Most charges were either corruption, dealings with Death Eaters, and violations of the rights of sapient creatures, while there was a varied minority of other charges. Most of these were sent to Azkaban, while those whose charges were mostly minor had the same outcome as Fudge.

Eventually, the time came to judge the Death Eaters, or at least those who had been exposed in the Graveyard. They were eight in total, and all were presented at the same time, as he wanted for this to be quick. The interrogation had been made prior to the trial proper, and all information had been delivered to Harry and his Potentate.

As much as they had protested, the prisoners had been dosed with Veritaserum, revealing not only a quite large number of incriminating facts about them, but also the identities of other Death Eaters. Many years ago, they had all claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse, but it seemed that had been but one of many lies.

All which had now been revealed to them, and soon enough, to the public as well.

"No need for formalities, I suppose. Your guilt has been proven through your own confessions and the testimony of witnesses."

Which, of course, meant himself.

He turned to his advisers. "Any suggestions on what to do with them?"

"Either death or life imprisonment," said Salazar.

"If I may," interjected Amelia. "Life imprisonment would be the best choice. There haven't been death sentences issued by the Ministry since the late 1700s."

Salazar glared at Amelia. "Didn't stop you from ordering people 'kissed', did it? Death would be preferable to that."

She did not flinch at the accusation. "I don't make the laws, Potentate. I make sure they are followed. Not to mention that from what I heard, capturing the soul of You-Know-Who was in essence the same thing as giving him the 'kiss'."

"Enough you two!" demanded Harry, who then turned to Amelia. "The imprisonment of his soul was a necessary step Madam Bones. Otherwise we would still be around, trying to get a new body… again. And for Akatosh's sake, call him Voldemort! He's dead."

Amelia didn't know what "Akatosh" was, but she had to agree that continuing to call the dark wizard "You-Know-Who" was ridiculous. And while she felt relief at the fact that Voldemort had been prevented from returning, she frowned on the idea of capturing the soul of someone, even if it was that of someone as vile as the late Dark Lord. Still, a bit of pragmatism had to be applied at the situation.

"The matter of Pettigrew and his master was… personal. As I don't want to establish a dangerous precedent here, you are all condemned to life imprisonment in Azkaban."

Silenced through magic, the eight could do nothing but glare hatefully at Harry as they were dragged away from the courtroom by Aurors.

Harry adjusted himself in his seat, thinking on the current situation. He had ordered the Dementors to be removed from Azkaban, and taken to someplace where they would hurt no one, and where they would be gradually culled. You couldn't kill something that was never alive to begin with, but the Dementors could be starved enough that eventually they would fade into nothingness.

"Madam Bones, the procedure for the rest of the Death Eaters is to be the same as it was for these eight. If they are found guilty by their confessions or other evidence, they are to be imprisoned for life in Azkaban. Am I understood?"

She nodded, feeling odd at receiving orders from a teenager. "Yes sir."

Harry got up, and followed by Salazar, he left the courtroom. They walked in silence until they reached an entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Salazar followed Harry as the teenager walked into the depths of the Department, and eventually they reached a rather strange room, its only distinctive feature being a seemingly ancient archway in the middle.

"You seem troubled Harry," said Salazar. "Why come here?"

Harry simply stared at the archway, unresponsive. Eventually, he approached the structure, touching the stone. It was cold yet the stone's texture was smooth, as if someone had recently polished it. He could hear whispers coming from the archway, as if someone was hiding on the other side. Except there was nothing there, but the rest of the room.

Of course, it was not that simple, and Harry knew it. He made sure the Unspeakables revealed to him what they were working on after his capture of the ministry. He was well aware of this arch's nature, and what was beyond the invisible veil.

"I feel close to them, you know," he said, breaking the silence. "Almost as if they were here. So close, yet so…"

The words failed him, but Salazar knew what Harry meant to say. He knew of whom he spoke.

"The arch is a foul thing Harry. Unhealthy. It calls for you… it hungers," he warned.

Harry looked down. "I know. Which is why I ordered it destroyed and all records of its existence erased, even from the memories of the Unspeakables."

Salazar was quite surprised. "You did what?"

Harry smiled, a weak sadness visible on his face.

"Their research on death and what lies beyond would lead to no good. Perhaps it could unleash something terrible upon this world. The gods of this world… of this universe are silent, and there is no Covenant to protect them. Best to take certain precautions before I leave, don't you think?"

He stepped away from the archway, joining Salazar at the entrance. The two left the room, reclaiming the silence from before until they exited the Department of Mysteries.

"What to do next?" asked Salazar.

"There are some people I wish to visit. I told my friends I would explain everything, and I also need to say goodbye…"

Harry felt his stomach tighten at the though. By departing from Earth, he would be sacrificing quite a few things, amongst them his friends. He kept telling himself it was for a good cause, but it still left a great emptiness inside him. He had not even left yet, and he already missed them.

"I'm going to Hogwarts."

* * *

**Hogwarts School, Scotland (U.K.)**

Hogwarts was normal again. As normal as it could be, that is.

Umbridge had been fired, her actions and methods having been deemed unacceptable by the new ministerial administration, and Dumbledore was given the choice to choose a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The post of High Inquisitor was declared defunct, and much to the chagrin of several members of Slytherin House, the Inquisitorial Squad had been disbanded.

Of course, the rest of the school celebrated at such news, although the memory of the execution of Voldemort and Pettigrew lingered, casting a shadow upon the school's spirit that would take a while to fade away.

When Harry arrived, the students were either in class or enjoying their free time, and Dumbledore had been awaiting him at the Entrance Courtyard.

"Hello Harry," greeted Dumbledore.

"Hello professor. I hope I didn't came at a bad time."

"Certainly not. I had hoped you would return, so perhaps we can now talk."

Harry followed Dumbledore into the headmaster's office. It was as it had been during his fourth year, so nothing had changed at all. All the portraits were sleeping, so perhaps they would have no interruptions or unwanted comments.

"Before all, may I ask what is the purpose of that army of yours?" said Dumbledore.

Harry nodded. "The Dragonguard is a… bodyguard of sorts. They have always served my family, or at least a single member of my family at a time. First the Cyrodiils, and the the Potters."

"It takes more than a simple bodyguard force to capture Voldemort," remarked Dumbledore.

"It's difficult to explain, and I doubt you'll believe me."

Dumbledore seemed surprised at this.

"Oh? Try me."

Harry observed Dumbledore. The old headmaster certainly seemed eager to hear his explanation.

"Ok. What do you know of the old Cyrodiils?"

"A wizard family, correct? From Scotland."

The teen nodded. "My ancestors. My family comes from them, and the Dragonguard's allegiance was inherited when the Cyrodiils became… well, extinct. But neither the Cyrodiils nor the Dragonguard are of this world."

Oddly enough, Dumbledore did not seem sceptical of this. In fact, he seemed more intrigued than anything. "Oh?"

"You don't seem surprised."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"In all my years, I've seen many strange… outlandish things, Harry. So forgive me if you were expecting visible shock. I'm surprised yes, but more interested than anything else."

Harry nodded, a bit perplexed. He reached into his jacket, and removed the hidden Amulet of Kings, showing it to Dumbledore, who recognised the pendent from the other day.

"This is the Amulet of Kings. The red gem is Chim-el Adabal, a soul gem similar to the one where Voldemort's soul was captured. In this one are the souls of many of my ancestors, willingly bound to it."

"Why?"

"I was told it was part of a coronation ceremony. Don't know much beyond it. The thing is, on their original world, the Cyrodiils ruled over a continent called Tamriel, or at least much of it. Then there was a coup by one of the emperor's advisers, and so the heir found a way to remain hidden. This world… universe, was the hiding place."

It took a few moments for Dumbledore to deduce a few things. "You plan to return there."

Harry nodded.

"It's been more than a thousand years you know, since the Dragonguard came from Tamriel. There are quite a few original members still alive, Salazar amongst them, who want to return there."

"That brings me to another question Harry. How is Salazar Slytherin still alive? And Helga Hufflepuff too?"

"It's got to do with their race. They're humans, but… different. Things in Tamriel were weird."

They two spoke for several more minutes, each time drifting from a topic to another. Yet not touching the topic of the day when the Dragonguard had taken Hogwarts, and the events which took place then. However, this could not be avoided for long.

"I had never wanted to place you in this situation Harry, so I hope you can forgive a foolish old man."

The boy in question was confused. "Professor?"

"You and Voldemort. You may be unaware, a prophecy was fulfilled the day you killed him."

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. What prophecy was Dumbledore talking about, and why had he not heard of it.

"Prophecy? What prophecy?"

Dumbledore seemed to age in front him. "Sixteen years ago, a prophecy was made, one whose telling I witnessed. There's no need to tell you the whole prophecy word by word, but it spoke of the birth of a child who had the power to defeat Voldemort, and that one would need to die at the hand of the other ."

"Me?"

"Not exactly. The prophecy gave a set of requirements that the child had to fulfil, and there came to be two who fitted these requirements. You were one, and the other was Neville Longbottom."

Harry gaped. Not that he had anything against Neville, but he could not see him defeat Voldemort.

"Neville? Are you sure?"

"Indeed. However, one of Voldemort's spies eavesdropped my meeting with the seer, and told the prophecy, or at least part of it, to his master. I do now know for certain why Voldemort choose to go after you, but I believe it was because of your similarities, as like him, you were also a half-blood."

"So all of this mess… this was all because of a prophecy?"

"One thing you have to understand Harry, is that a prophecy is more of a possibility than a fact. It was Voldemort's actions that made the prophecy fact, more than its own existence. You could argue that the prophecy made him act, thus making it a certainty from the start, but remember that Voldemort had a choice. And in trying to prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled, he sealed his fate. And yours too," said Dumbledore.

"So… that means that I would have killed him anyway."

"The prophecy did not say who would win, only that the one with the power to defeat Voldemort would be born. But yes, one of you needed to die at the hand of the other. I am not disappointed in the fact that you killed Voldemort, although at the time I was quite shocked with the abruptness of the whole thing. My disappointment comes from you having killed both him and Pettigrew in the middle of the Great Hall, with all the students there."

Harry sighed. "I needed his death to be public. People had to be assured that he was permanently dead."

"And why not in the Ministry? It would be public as well."

"To prove a point, I suppose. You had adults, children, and even that woman from the Ministry. But what's done is done. No need to cry over spilt milk."

Dumbledore hummed, his fingers massaging his long beard. He was unsure of many things, his projections for the future having been utterly shattered by the wild card that Harry had become. Perhaps this was for the best. With Voldemort's soul trapped and unable to influence the world, the horcruxes were without a central component to be connected to, and would soon enough fade away. And since many Death Eaters were being apprehended, the likelihood of another war was severely diminished. With all this, Dumbledore reached one simple conclusion.

This was very likely the best possible outcome.


	10. Grant the Noble King Passage

**_Chapter 10 – Grant the Noble King Passage_ **

Harry's conversation with Dumbledore lasted longer than either of them had expected. Before he left the office, his former headmaster had told Harry that since he had taken control of the Ministry, and his Ministry-sanctioned expulsion from Hogwarts had been essentially nullified, then he was technically a student of Hogwarts again, and was free to roam the school at his pleasure. Of course, both knew that Harry would not be attending any classes.

There were stares and whispers as he walked, nothing that he wasn't used to. However, it was irritating. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors looked at him with awe, the Ravenclaws looked at him with curiosity, and the Slytherins looked at him with either fear or hate. Well… he was generalising the first three, but the Slytherins he passed by reacted to him within nothing other than hate.

Having seen neither Ron nor Hermione in the Great Hall, at this time they could only be in the Common Room. He headed there as quickly as possibly, eventually reaching the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Ah, Potter! No need for the password. The headmaster told me of your arrival. He was sure you would like to return to the tower," said the Fat Lady, a slightly slurring in her words. "You're the talk of the portraits, you know. I was talking to Violet the other day about you - you know Violet, don't you - and she…"

"Yes, I'm sure you did. Can you open, please?"

He was not really eager to listen to a half-drunk Fat Lady.

"Oh, oh, yes, yes! Of course," she drawled, the portrait sliding away to reveal the hole.

Harry entered, and true to his guess, Ron and Hermione were inside the common room, the former reluctantly doing his homework, while the latter did hers eagerly and as quickly as possible. And as he approached them, it was Ron who first noticed him.

"Harry!"

Hermione immediately turned around, seeing that Harry was indeed there, standing near the portrait hole.

"HARRY!"

She stood up and tackled her friend, nearly crushing him in a hug that would rival those of Molly Weasley.

"How are you? Are you alright? Everyone thought you had been kidnapped, but then you appeared in the Great Hall with that army, and…"

"Bloody hell Hermione, let him breathe," said Ron, who looked quite happy to see him again, although he was a bit more reserved than Hermione in his affections.

Now that the two were up, Harry could clearly see how they had changed over the summer. Not much, although the two were taller, just as he himself was.

"So, where were you mate?" asked Ron.

"In the headquarters of the Dragonguard, the army you saw the other day. I was taken there by… an agent of theirs, right after I left King's Cross. Couldn't write anything to you for 'security reasons', as Salazar put it."

The mention of Salazar immediately shifted the conversation to a new topic.

"Was that really Slytherin?" asked Hermione. "The Salazar Slytherin?"

Harry nodded. "The one and only. He's been leading the Order since… a long time."

The three sat down, Harry telling them all that had happened since Voldemort's return, from his meeting with Aetius Nott at the Graveyard, the revelation of Salazar Slytherin as the Grandmaster of the Dragonguard and ancestral protector of the Potter family, his meeting with the Silentarius, the attempted attack of the Dementors, the coup at the Ministry, and finally the capture of Hogwarts with all associated events. He told them too of the truth behind his family, and exodus that the Dragonguard would soon do.

"So, you're leaving?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"But, why? I, mean, you told us why they are leaving, but why are you going too?" asked Ron.

He sighed. "It's my family Ron. I mean, you two have something to hold on to, but mine's gone. All I have about them is my mom's sacrifice and… my father's legacy, what it meant. And the Dragonguard, they are part of it, and they are determined to put me on the throne of Tamriel. You saw them all bowing when I put on the Amulet. That was practically a coronation."

"We could go with you!" proposed Hermione.

"As much as I would like that, I don't think it's possible," admitted Harry. "You still have your families here, and I don't know if it's a one-way trip or not. Besides, we're not sure what to be expecting in Tamriel, besides war."

"Wow. A bit pessimistic," remarked Ron.

"There's a reason they call it the Arena. It's more poetic than anything, but it's one of its names. Apparently, there is always some sort of conflict there. Still… I have to go. Voldemort is gone, the Death Eaters are done for, and the Ministry is being reformed. The Boy-Who-Lived is no longer needed."

There was a moment of silence, where none of the three knew what to say. Harry knew this was possibly the hardest part of his departure, for he was essentially storing away his very first friends, turning them into mere memories that would be occasionally brought up later in his life.

That is, if he had no way of returning to Earth. He had never asked Salazar much about the ritual which opened the gateway between this universe and that of the Aurbis.

"Besides, this is your world. These last days were spent cleaning it. It's your turn to do something good with it… to improve it. Gods know how much that is needed."

* * *

Farewells were something Harry came to learn he disliked a lot. Leaving behind Ron and Hermione had not been pleasant at all, and it was certain he would question if this was the right thing to do in the future. Yet he was not going alone to Tamriel… at least regarding people close to him. Having nothing binding them to Earth, both Remus and Sirius were going as well, and since their only connection to James and Lily was leaving, they would go with him, making sure he would be protected.

Needless to say, there was some initial scepticism when things had been revealed to them, but a few demonstrations and the events since the Ministry's takeover were enough to convince them it was nothing more than the truth.

"I still don't see how you can trust _him_."

It was quite obvious who Sirius was talking about.

"Black, don't be a cunt," warned Moody.

The enmity Sirius had for Slytherin House was also shared with its founder.

"The Potentate is trustworthy," affirmed Harry. "And we'll speak no more of this."

Everything had been prepared for the Exodus. The Ministry had been left behind in trustworthy hands, and now Harry only hoped that everything would turn out well. For both the new Ministry, and those who would follow him.

The amount of people amassed in both Fort Cyrodiil and outside of it was staggering. The camps that had been established with the arrival of the foreign temples of the Dragonguard had increased tenfold, and it looked like a miniature city or town had been established around the fort. Of course, considering what was happening in these moments, all was being dismantled, the fort's furnishings as well. Now, overyone was preparing to enter the portal cavern. Not at the same time of course, but by groups – the first of these including Harry and his personal escort.

Three cloaked figures walked past him, and upon looking at them Harry shivered. Even now, the sight of the three Silentarii was enough to remind him of what he had experienced down in their cave. They stopped and turned to stare at the ritual's platform, their faces completely covered by metallic masks, revealing only their eyes.

"Your majesty, everything has been prepared. The mages have overseen the ritual's preparation and all signs point to its success," said Salazar upon approaching, having just now arrived at the chamber. "All the gateway need to be activated is a phrase."

Harry nodded. He knew what it was, having read the journal of Juilek, his ancestor, how had spoke them long ago to enter this world.

Now, he would do the opposite.

"Av Auri-El ye Tamri-El dellevoy an Arpen Aran tarnabye."

The runes glowed with a blue light, and moments three orbs of light appeared, each placed as in forming a horizontal triangle. Suddenly, the orbs joined together in the middle, causing a great flash of light and then expanding into a great blue portal. The sound it made was strange, almost akin to that of crickets in the night.

"Why in Ayleidoon, I'll never understand," muttered Helga as she gazed at the portal.

"My dear Helga, the ritual heavily involved Ayleid magic," said Salazar as he too looked at the portal for the second time in his life. "It only makes sense that it's activated by their language."

This was unlike any sort of magic he had seen. Here before him was a gateway into a completely different universe, its existence likely breaking the laws of both. Or not. He didn't know and cared little about it. If the portal got them into Nirn, then he was satisfied, and so were the Dragonguard.

As agreed between them, it was Helga who entered first, disappearing into the blue. Moments later, she reappeared, confirming that beyond the portal was their destination. At that, the order was given.

"Forward!" commanded Salazar.

Stepping into the portal was an endeavour Harry didn't know he was hesitant to do. There was no sensation to crossing over, merely the brightness at the centre of the portal which quickly vanished as they entered the other side. The gateway had led into a damp cavernous chamber, which opened into a wide corridor which gradually became smaller, until nothing else could be seen.

Harry stepped away from the portal, allowing the other Dragonguard to proceed into the cavern. His mind, however, was focused on one thing only.

At long last, he was on Tamriel.


End file.
